


the rapture in the dark

by violentdarlings



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Manipulative Valentine, Pre-Canon, Unhealthy Relationships, basically Valentine is randy and goes to visit the one person he knows is a sure thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6369811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violentdarlings/pseuds/violentdarlings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hodge and Valentine, in the days before the Uprising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the rapture in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt at [shadowhunters ficathon](http://ladygawain.livejournal.com/83265.html?page=2) :
> 
> Hodge/Valentine,  
> Kiss me on the mouth and set me free  
> Sing me like a choir  
> I can be the subject of your dreams  
> Your sickening desire  
> Don't you want to see a man up close?  
> A phoenix in the fire  
> So kiss me on the mouth and set me free  
> But please don't bite.
> 
> Title and prompt from BITE by Troye Sivan.

Val’s hair is wild and his hands are going a mile a minute as he paces. Hodge looks at him under his lashes and wonders why he is here; it’s been a long time since Val came to see him, alone. Oh, Hodge goes often enough to see them at the Fairchild manor, and for Circle meetings, of course, but this is different. When he’s alone with Val, his buried feelings for his friend burst back into life like flame licking at Hodge’s skin, and it’s all he can do not to let his heart show in his eyes.

“I just don’t understand what the matter with Jocelyn is,” Val says, and Hodge feels a tiny thrill, that he is the one Val has chosen to talk to about this, about the person dearest to Val’s heart. “She’s not the woman I married.” Hodge sighs, polishing his chakrams carefully; Val never minds if his followers tend to weapons while he talks.

“That’s not fair, Val,” he says. “She’s had a baby. It’s a big change. It can be difficult, sometimes, for women to adjust after their children are born.” Val’s jaw is set. “It won’t be forever,” Hodge adds, and slowly Val’s shoulders start to relax.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he says slowly, but there is still concern in the line of his brow. “It’s just… she seems to have lost faith. Her convictions were once as strong as mine. But now…”

“Give it time,” Hodge encourages. “You’ll see.” The frustration is fading from Val’s eyes, leaving a dreadful sorrow in its wake.

“I hope so,” he says hollowly. “I can’t bear it. Every time she looks at me, it’s like she’s seeing a stranger. I can’t – I _need_ her to get better. There must be something I can do.” Hodge’s hands still on his blades.

“Be there for her,” Hodge says tiredly. “That’s all any of us can do for one another, Val. Even for those we love. _Especially_ for those we love.”

Val stops pacing. His hand is disarrayed from his running his hands through it, and he is looking at Hodge like he has never truly seen him before.

“Look at you. By the Angel, Hodge –” Val breaks off. Hodge stands, leaning against his table, his extremities prickling with feverish heat and his heart thumping an unfamiliar rhythm.

“What is it, Val?” he asks. Val raises inky eyes to Hodge’s; Hodge cannot look at him for longer than a moment, at the penetrating question in those eyes.

“You. You look at me. The way she used to.” Hodge feels the words settle in his gut like a stone, coldness washing over his entire body. By the Angel. He never wanted Val to know.

“Forgive me, Valentine,” he says, feeling unworthy of even using his leader’s given name, being as he is. “It is a weakness.”

“Yes,” Valentine agrees, and Hodge can’t look at him. He idly wonders if this is an offence one can be banished from the Circle for. The thought both fills him with hope and paralyses him with dread. “A weakness. Of both the flesh and the spirit, wouldn’t you agree, Starkweather?” The use of his surname sears at him, but Hodge nods.

“I do,” he mumbles, staring at his feet. But there is a cool hand at his chin, forcing his face up and his eyes to meet Val’s black ones.

“And as such a weakness, you would rather be expelled from the Circle than ever converse of it to the others?” It is so Val, to consider expulsion from the Circle the worst punishment on the face of this earth. But Hodge nods.

“I would never speak of it. And you know, Val, you must know, that I would rather die than abandon our cause.” Hodge looks at Val, and means it, and doesn’t mean it. Val nods, as if Hodge has said the right thing, and a warmth fills his chest even as he loathes himself for it.

“Quite right,” Val says, his hand still on Hodge’s chin, and Hodge had been so consumed with fear that he had not noticed Val draw closer, until they are only inches apart. “This is a weakness. And you will never speak of it again.” Hodge nods, and Val tuts. “I need your word, Hodge Starkweather.”

“You have it,” Hodge says in a rush. “Never. I promise, Val. I swear.” There is sudden warmth in Val’s fathomless eyes.

“Good,” Val says, and Hodge opens his mouth to thank him. But instead, Valentine kisses him.

Hodge gasps, and feels like an idiot, and then feels too much. Val is there, as Hodge has dreamt for so many years, his hands on Hodge’s shoulders and his mouth light and curious. Like Val is testing his mettle, gauging his intent. Hodge has not the restraint to go lightly; he takes Val’s head in his hands and runs his tongue against Val’s lips. Val gasps against his mouth and the openness of it takes Hodge’s breath away; he had never thought, in all his shameful daydreams about his friend, that Val would let him take the lead. It is a chink in the armour, a glimpse into what is truly inside Val, and Hodge is stunned by the dark beauty of it.

Val has one arm around Hodge’s shoulders and the other hand resting gently on Hodge’s cheek. Val is practically holding him up and Hodge thrills to the strength in him, Val, stronger than any other Shadowhunter Hodge has ever known, the only one he could ever love. Val opens his mouth and Hodge presses the advantage, and oh, he’s an idiot, how could he have ever thought he had control of this situation? Val has him exactly where he wants him; his tongue forces its way into Hodge’s mouth – not that he minds – and Valentine is kissing him mercilessly, brutally even, as though pouring all his frustration and anger and grief into Hodge. It’s intoxicating, like warlock powder and faerie liquor and new love all at once, and Hodge wants to get closer, to be skin to skin with Val, to know him as the first and last of all Hodge loves on this earth.

He is throbbing in his trousers and thinks he might die if Val doesn’t touch him. He takes Val’s hand and presses it to his hardness; Val’s eyes widen a little, as if Hodge has done something he had not accounted for, and Hodge freezes.

“No,” Val says, and moves his hand away, his eyes hard. But Hodge doesn’t have time to feel rejection, because Val’s hand is at the buttons of his own gear, and by the Angel, this is really happening, this is real. “Get on your knees,” Val says quietly, a darkness in his voice, and Hodge doesn’t need to think, doesn’t need to question it for a moment.

He gets on his knees.

Later, when Val has gone back to the Fairchild manor and Hodge is alone in his house, he licks his lips and settles into a chair, his trousers around his ankles. “Val,” he whispers, and wants to never forget the taste of Val on his tongue, the brutal fists in his hair, the choke of Val pressing down his throat. The way his body has come alive so close to Val’s, as it never had before.

If he hadn’t already been certain he is in love with Val, he’s sure now.


End file.
